


Slowly with everything, please, let me be slow

by writing_shorts_but_failing



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: (I actually couldn't add all of the accuracies bc it made the story flow weird), Dating, Demisexuality, Dom!Sarah Williams, Don't worry about that tho, F/M, First Kiss, Flashback, I just W R E C K Jareth in this, It makes me so PROUD, Just Me Read, Medical Inaccuracies, No Sex, No Smut, Not Beta Read, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, just one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29188479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_shorts_but_failing/pseuds/writing_shorts_but_failing
Summary: Sarah is recovering from a . . . less than stellar relationship and accidentally lets the Goblin King back into her life after ten years. She is reminded that mistakes can lead to great things.Like watching plays, talking, drinking tea, and even healthy relationships.(For the lovely Sugar n’ Spice, Valentijn Evenement 2021!)
Relationships: Jareth/Sarah Williams
Comments: 9
Kudos: 63
Collections: Sugar n Spice Valentijn Evenement 2021





	Slowly with everything, please, let me be slow

Sarah liked to take things slow when it came to relationships, partly to weed out the bad ones and partly because she just took a long time to feel physical attraction to anyone.

It was after a _particularly_ bad boyfriend that she messed up.

She stared at her refection in the mirror, trying to figure out how it had escalated so quickly, twisting her scarf between her hands.

"I wish-" Sarah bit her lip, already knowing that she had accidentally opened a can of worms. She put on the scarf and could already feel him in the room, just out of view.

"Not going to finish your wish, Sarah?" His smooth voice made her shiver, residual fear and perhaps some new. She shook her head, careful to not move too much. "A shame. You always make the best wishes, dearest."

"What do you want?" Sarah felt too tired to be anything other than blunt or do a lot of talking.

"Just a bit of a chat." She watched him look at the few books she had in her room, trailing a gloved hand along the dresser. "It's not often that someone beats my labyrinth. I'd like to know how you and young Toby have been."

She sighs tiredly.

"Please come back in a week," Sarah forces down the wince at the way her voice rasps and breaks. "I'm a bit sick."

"Hmm." She could feel his eyes, the judgment, the disbelief. "Alright. I'll be back at noon next week's end. I hope you feel better by then, precious."

The room felt empty the moment he left, like his very presence had filled it without her noticing. She had felt his eyes but this was different somehow.. It didn't feel frightening like . . . well, Sarah had no fear of the Goblin King raising a hand to her, he had hardly touched her while she ran the labyrinth. He had always been just out of range or looming with not even his clothes brushing hers.

Except for when she ate the peach. It had all felt like a blurry dream but she could remember him gently cradling her hand and barely touching her waist, the soft silk of his gloves and the brocade and embroidery of his jacket.

Sarah goes to sleep feeling disturbed and wrong footed but that's a normal feeling for the past two months, the only new feeling is the stillness of a peaceful mind for the first time in so very long.

* * *

Sarah feels relieved and terrified all at once, a normal reaction according to her therapist. The restraining order has finally come through. No more court and no more _him._

She would be a bit more giddy by the time of her meeting with the Goblin King but she is honestly so tired from all of it. Too much stress, too much relief, just too much.

She just prepares for his arrival, some little snacks and the tea her doctor recommended. It was probably because she was raised in America but she felt like hot tea was more of a winter and fall thing, and iced tea being an all-year-round drink.

Regardless, she still wears a scarf and drinks hot tea even though the weather is getting uncomfortably warm for both.

Everything is set up at her small kitchen table and she's taken the first sip of tea when the clock starts its cuckoo cries. It's the tenth cuckoo when the Goblin King walks into the room, in his usual style of clothes.

"Hello, Sarah." She smiles tiredly and gestures to the other chair. He sits in it like the cheap wood is a throne and she pours him a cup of tea. "Lovely room and crockery."

She pushes the cream, sugar, lemon and honey towards him. (She's starting to really dislike the fact that all of it fits on a little tray that she can assemble easily. She would rather go back to when it felt like she fumbled everything to do with hot tea.)

"I hope you like this special blend." So damn special that she had gone to an apothecary in Little China to get it specially made, plus instructions on how to make it. It was a very nice place but the _reason_ for needing to go there made her dislike it.

(The fact the tea tasted good made her stomach twist. Like anything that came from _the incident_ could be **_good_**.)

They sat in silence and he put a lot of honey in his tea. The atmosphere felt slightly awkward but it wasn't as uncomfortable as she thought it would be.

"It's been getting dreadfully hot lately, should you be wearing a scarf?" A gentle nudging but Sarah ignored it and pointed looked at his jacket and ridiculously high boots. He chuckled. "Ah, yes, but I have magic to keep me cool. Humans don't the last time I checked."

"Not that I know of either." Her throat was healed more, the rasp and cracking hardly noticeable unless she did a lot of talking, or even a moderate amount. The pain wasn't as bad anymore. "I just feel like wearing it."

"I have noticed that fashion is quite a bit more . . . lax since the last time I was Aboveground." He set down his drink and pulled out one of his crystals from thin air, twirling it a bit before stopping it and showing some different styles of clothes from so many different eras. "I believe that stays were just starting to come into style. Actually, it was tournures that were coming into style. That's a few years difference I think."

 _Well,_ Sarah mused, _immortality certainly makes for not knowing centuries from years._

She's a former theatre kid, even volunteered at the community theatre when they needed more actors, she knew a fair bit about older fashion.

"Reminds me of some of my plays." After the labyrinth. After many a learned lesson. After letting go of her mother. " _The tragedy of Orpheus_ is a favorite of mine."

"Truly? I thought it would be _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ with how popular that Shakespeare fellow is." The genuine shock on his face makes her smile. Everyone always expected Sarah, who forever had her head full of fairy tales, to like light hearted things best. "Orpheus is an old tale, hard to believe people still know it."

"Stories are something that connect people from everywhere with the past to the present," Sarah had to wet her throat, "It's one of the things that make us human."

"That's such a relative term. 'Human' is something that's been debated for millennia," The way the Goblin King says this makes it sound like an old rant, a memorized speech. "'Human' has been used make others 'not human.' A common practice for all the races but annoying nonetheless."

"What do you mean by 'all the races?' Do you mean those Underground?" She knows that Hoggle is a dwarf, Ludo and Sir Didimus were unknowns, and there were fairies and goblins. Were there others? Almost every myth had a grain of salt to it, some had a whole shaker full, it wouldn't be a stretch to believe more existed.

"Yes and no." The crystal in his hand started to show different people, from different eras and different countries, and it showed people that looked like him, like Hoggle, like a fairy, and many that weren't humanoid. "It seems to be one of those universal things. Them verses us, better the devil you know and such. The tactic is quite popular with governments and degenerates."

True enough, most of history and military training could be boiled down to these concepts and when people saw through them and rebelled.

How often did the news lie?

"But, tell me of young Toby." He very visibly calms himself, twirling a hand and making the crystal disappear. "He must be running around and getting into mischief by now."

"He's ten now, so of course he is. He runs around with a pack of friends after school and is so curious about everything." Toby also had a small bit of _other_ hanging around him, at least from what she could tell. Probably from the labyrinth. "He's so smart, he doesn't like school though. He's really good with numbers, far more than I was at that age."

"He sounds like he's doing well," Sarah ignored his impish grin to sip her tea. "Especially with such a proud sister."

"Mm, yeah. I love him so much." Sarah will do anything for baby brother, and she has. She made a spiked baseball bat even. "He's a sweet kid, my baby brother."

The cuckoo clock cried once, startling Sarah so bad that she dropped her cup and porcelain went everywhere. She looked at the mess of shards and tea while clutching her hands to her chest.

_It felt hard to breathe, he would be so mad if he sees this mess. She needs to clean it up before he can see but it's hard to breathe. She couldn't breathe and his hands were pressing the air from her and she couldn't see because of the tears-_

"Sarah!" She flung herself away from the hand on her shoulder, scrabbling further away when she hit the floor. "Shh, Sarah, you are safe. No one here will hurt you, it's just you and me. No one is going to hurt you, _I_ will not hurt you."

Sarah couldn't say how long she sat against the cabinets before she snapped out of the flashback. However, seeing the Goblin King kneeling on her kitchen floor and treating her like a cornered animal, the embarrassment hit her like a stone and she burst into full body crying.

Again, she couldn't say how long it took her to calm down but the humming and small vocalizations were the first thing to register. She didn't recognize the tune at all but it soothed her until she slumped over into an exhausted heap on the cold floor.

She hated being this emotional, hated it so damn much, even if it was pretty normal for trauma victims. She just wanted all of it to stop so she could go back to how she was before she dated that jackass.

She hadn't even visited Toby because of the bruises and it was only last week that she had been able to call him and pretend to be sick. Thankfully her dad and Irene hadn't told Toby anything and he thought that she had just been too sick and contagious to visit or call.

She focused back on the present when the Goblin King shifted. He twirled his hand and held out a _handkerchief_ of all things. She took it and started mopping her face.

God, when was the last time she wore make-up?

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head, her throat too sore to talk.

"Do you want tea?" Sarah really did _not_ want that goddamn tea but her throat needed it. She held out a hand cautiously (terrified but he, the Goblin King, had never hurt her) because she didn't have the strength to get up on her and the floor was starting to hurt. "Easy does it, love."

He slowly came closer, telegraphing each movement, and gently helped her into her chair with minimal contact.

Sarah felt so tired but she sipped the tea, somehow still warm, and looked at the Goblin King. He seemed to be thinking over his words very carefully.

 _'Say your right words,'_ Sarah thought with wry humor.

"Sarah," he paused for a moment, "Are you safe here?"

She nodded.

"Is there anyone you want me to get for you?"

She shook her head.

(She wanted to go back and shake her younger self until her teeth rattled, because this man wasn't _scary in a **significant** way_. The Goblin King was a four _at most_ and Derrick was a ten.)

"Will-," a pause, reconsiders? "Would it be alright if I came back next week at the same time?"

 _That was not what you wanted to ask,_ Sarah thinks. Perhaps she's not the only one that's afraid here.

She croaks out a yes, sips her tea.

"If something comes up, all you have to do is say my name," the Goblin King does his slight of hand, "Or break this crystal and I'll be right there."

She takes the crystal and sets it in the hole of a bagel, undecided on where to keep it.

"It will only break if you will it. Until next time." She blinks and suddenly the kitchen window is open and an owl is flying away. She huffs.

What a dramatic guy.

* * *

The next meet up is slightly awkward, the exhaustion having worn off and left her embarrassed, but they keep to light topics.

They keep meeting up and slowly delve into deeper topics, talking for longer and longer. It's . . . nice. Nicer than she's had in a long time. He, Jareth as he insists, doesn't pressure her for anything. All he wants is a bit of her time each week and he _apologizes_ if they talk until dark.

No one has ever been so considerate before, it's refreshing and so very strange.

Between his visits and the therapy she gets the confidence to volunteer at the theatre again, mostly working with backdrops and helping people memorize lines and actions. She asks to not be credited in the playbill since she hardly contributed this time, merely wanting a few free tickets.

"Would you like to go with me?" The playbill positioned between them ever so casually on the coffee table with some magazines.

(She's nervous, okay? It's the first play to show since she started volunteering again and she actually made a few of the costume pieces.)

(And maybe, just maybe, she wants to sit next to him in public.

Almost like a-)

" _The Wonder of This Land_ , huh?" Jareth flips through the playbill, skimming the information on it. "Sounds very . . . patriotic."

"Oh no, it's a fantasy setting. In fact, I think what it's based off of is in England." His gloved hands were rather distracting, a tan leather today.

“I’ll go.” Jareth flips the playbill closed and her heart swells.

“I’m sure you’ll like it.”

* * *

Two weeks later and she stands outside the theatre, in a long sleeved dress and heeled boots (and make-up, maybe he will say something nice-), waiting for Jareth to show up.

_Did I tell him the right time? He said he could find the theatre._

“Hello, Sarah.” She jumps and nearly falls over except a gloved hand catches hers. She looks up to tell him that he almost scared her to death only she can’t make a sound. “Sorry, precious, I didn’t think you would be so lost in thought.”

He’s not wearing his usual clothing, in fact, he looks like he could have come from the cover of _GQ_. Leather boots, _tight_ jeans, a grey shirt, a worn leather jacket and the black leather gloves are so very distracting. It takes her a moment to notice that his hair has been combed back into loose waves and that he doesn’t have more than a smidge of make-up on.

She feels tongue tied and wrong footed and very warm.

“It-it’s fine.” Sarah flushes at how her voice squeaks. She _knew_ he was attractive before but this is like a punch to the gut.

 _Oh lord, he looks like David Bowie_.

Actually, how had she never noticed that? It seems so obvious now.

“Come on,” Sarah forces the words out, taking his hand to lead him inside. “I managed to get us balcony seats! It’s not like opera house level balcony but it _is_ high enough to get a good view of the stage, and right in the center too!”

“Sounds exciting, it must be good to have you so eager.” There’s something off about his tone but she ignores it.

She hands over their tickets and is shown up to their seats by an usher, a young kid is reciting poetry on stage while everyone gets ready. The plush velvet of the seats is nice.

“I think that’s Dan’s daughter, he plays Mr. White.” The girl is all peasant dress, coltish figure and clear voiced. Her intonations are very good and the pacing is just right.

“Speaking of that,” Jareth is flipping through the playbill again. “There’s not much information on what the play is about. It’s all vaguer than a fae’s deal.”

“Well, the story is a pretty popular one, so most people already know what’s going to happen.” The fact that Jareth _doesn’t_ know the story is something that she hadn’t thought about but it makes her giddy to show him something _new._

“And you won’t tell me, will you?”

“No! This is how I learned the story, and that means that this is how you’ll learn the story.” Sarah’s mother had been a beautiful Red Queen, the stage had been so magical and amazing when she was a child. But she had let that part of her past go, dreams are good but refusing to grow was terrible.

(Plus her mother hadn’t been much of a mother, more of a cold idol for Sarah to look up to.)

“I’ll lend you my books after this for you to read the original story.” A hush fell as the theatre dimmed and Tommy, the narrator, stepped into the spotlight.

 _“Our story is set in the country side, our lovely lead . . .”_ Sarah could hardly focus on the words, suddenly all too aware of Jareth next to her. Just a few inches away, in a dark room. His hand right there.

(When had she let go?

His hand been so warm through the cool leather.)

She sincerely tried to focus on the play but his every reaction kept distracting her. His small chuckles, when his breath would catch, when he leaned forward. Especially the moment his hand gripped hers near the climax of the story, she felt her heart stutter.

(Oh.

Oh no.

Was she really-?

 _Oh no, she was._ )

She got a hold of herself in time for the audience to start clapping as the lights came on. She looked back over at him and felt her heart stutter again. The wide smile, flush in his cheeks, the way the light caught his eyes, it was absolutely enchanting.

“I haven’t been so enthralled with a play since _The Forty Thieves_.” Sarah bit her tongue because he _surely_ couldn’t mean the famous one from 1869, the one with a _mostly female cast._ (She is still a theatre nerd, dammit, and she wants to _know_ but she also wants to hear him talk about this play.) “You said this is based off of books? The pamphlet said that it was inspired by, and that this time they couldn’t include the Duchess’ house. What does that even _mean_?”

Sarah gently pulled him along by the sleeve of his jacket, listening to his excited chatter. The joy and enthusiasm was charming.

He talked all the way out of the theatre, even absently putting his jacket on her when she shivered from the crisp air. His grey shirt was long sleeved and clung to his shoulders nicely.

_Nothing about this man is convenient._

The whole walk to her apartment she half listened to him praise the play and contemplated if she should . . . ask for more. More of his time, his company, his _everything._

Did he still have feelings for her or was she just a friend now? Maybe nothing more than a passing fancy, a human that beat his labyrinth?

She paused while getting the books off her shelf, not having realized that so much time had passed while she thought.

“Jareth?” He hummed and she kept staring at the books. “Do-do you know what dating is?”

“It’s modern courting, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Would you-” Sarah’s throat felt very dry. “Would you like to date me?”

Everything was silent, like time had frozen.

(Just like the moment before she said she would run the labyrinth.)

“I w-” Jareth makes a strangled sound before clearing his throat. “I would like that very much.”

Sarah gets dizzy from the gulp of air she pulls in, twisting to see him red faced and running a hand through his hair.

 _He looks so cute when he’s flustered._ (She’ll have to get him red more often.) _What do I say now? I didn’t think this far ahead!_

She’s trying not to panic at how tense and awkward the atmosphere is.

“Th-that’s good.” She wants to scream because _who says that?!_

“Are there any rules to dating?”

“No, it’s pretty much what we’ve been doing except with romantic intent.” This sums up most of her dating experience. “Talking, getting to know each other, maybe more physical contact, just that sort of thing.”

His mouth quirks into a dashing smile and he gently takes her hand in his, bends over it and kisses the back of her wrist while holding eye contact. She feels her face flush and all he did was kiss the fabric, not even her skin.

(This man is a _tease_ and she really likes it.)

“In that case,” Jareth’s eyes are full of mischief and it’s doing things to her stomach. “How about meeting twice a week, love? One day for our usual tryst and another for a walk around town?”

“Yeah.” Why do her emotions always hit her all at once? Attraction is so stupid that it makes her stupid.

“I’ll see you in a few days then,” He reaches past her to get the books, getting _very_ close, he winks at her. “You can keep the jacket.”

He’s gone in a puff of sparkly magic and the jerk made her weak in the knees.

She sits on her couch and buries her face in the jacket that smells like him (leather, peaches, and the ozone of magic) and smiles like a dope.

* * *

He brings her flowers that never die, except the ones that he picks when they’re out on walks (she presses these between the pages of her books with the dates written on little pieces of paper). They slowly start to talk about their pasts, they see plays, and watch movies and _cuddle._

(He’s charming, gallant, he listens, he serenades her, he respects her space, he doesn’t talk down to her, he’s just so good to her that sometimes she cries after he leaves.

Even though she hadn’t been ready then, she could have had all of this at sixteen, could have avoided her abusive relationships.

Too many “what if’s” that she tries to not think about.)

She can’t think of a time she’s been happier.

And Toby loves Jareth. Her dad and Irene love him, after a few months that is, they’re cautious after Derrick but are trusting of her word.

It’s _amazing_ and it makes her heart feel full.

There is, however, one fear that lurks.

(All of her past partners were pushy about sex, and if not sex then they wanted to kiss and cling and _touch her_ in an uncomfortable way.)

“Jareth,” Sarah is loath to bring it up, especially after her last relationship, but it’s been almost seven months of them dating. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?”

He pauses mid brush stroke, her hair falling down from his hand. She looks back at his flushed face. He sings about the deepest of devotions and laughingly croons bawdy songs but this makes him blush.

He hums, gathers her hair again, and goes back to brushing. She knows that hum, it means that he’s thinking of how to word something.

“I’ve told you what I am.”

“You’re a fae.”

“Yes. Fae are cunning, trickster beings, everything from our names to touch is heavily guarded against each other. A name can be freeing, or it can be a pair of shackles. Touch is the same, skin on skin is a sharing of essence, it is not to be taken lightly.” Yeah, that sounded like all of the myths she’s heard. It sounds rather lonely and tiresome. “Trust is a key part of it, and those that break that trust are some of the highest abhorrence.”

This has her remembering every touch they’ve shared, since the moment she wished away Toby to this very second. He’s always had something blocking skin to skin contact.

“I don’t think or believe that about you but the instinct to be careful is always there, Sarah.” She turns around completely at his earnest words, putting her hands on his knees and kneeling, looking up to his eyes.

(He’s got that lovely red across his cheekbones again.)

“What would it mean to share essence?” Jareth’s eyes dilate at the question and he swallows loudly.

“It’s a bit similar to being engaged when it’s between two unrelated people.” His voice has gone a little bit breathy, his hands placed firmly beside him on the couch. “Marriage would only happen with a ceremony and then a full connecting of bodies.”

“Jareth,” his breathing hitches and Sarah has never felt more powerful than this moment. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, _please._ ”

Sarah moves to sit next to him, slowly reaching to cup his jaw with her bare hand, watching his expression the entire time to make sure that he’s agreeing to it. His skin is warm, a low buzz building where her skin touches his, and he shivers when she draws her thumb over his bottom lip. His eyes are so dilated that the pupils have almost overcome the irises. Agonizingly slowly she leans closer and can feel how his heart pounds where her body meets his.

His lips are soft as she lightly brushes her mouth over his, it feels like a thrum of energy when she fully presses her lips to his. The kiss lasts barely a moment but when she pulls away Jareth is flushed and his eyelashes are fluttering.

He looks utterly wrecked and she feels so proud of herself for getting him to this state with just a few words and a kiss.

“Please,” Jareth _begs_ , “ _Again, please._ ”

Sarah brings up her other hand to gently bury it in his soft hair and his breathing goes _ragged._

This time the kiss is firmer, that thrum of energy surging in time with his heartbeat. His lips are supple and he _whimpers_ so prettily when she lightly nips him.

“Is that energy you?” Sarah gasps when she pulls away.

“ _Yes.”_ Jareth says with a whine. She wants to hear every sound she can wring out of him but she’s not ready for that yet with him, and he certainly isn’t either if a few kisses leave him like this.

She untangles her hand from his hair and brings the other over to hold his fist, running her thumb over the gloved skin while he gets his breathing under control slowly. She catches her breath first.

“Thank you for letting me set the pace,” Sarah feels him shudder, she licks her tingling lips and he groans. “I wouldn’t mind continuing to go slow.”

“Slow is good,” Jareth stutters out, like his tongue can’t move quite right. He’s so pretty like this, swollen lips and flushed face and unfocused eyes.

(Essence sharing plus touch starved is a delicious combination on her Goblin King. She’s going to pull every sound and expression she can from him, but not now.

Not for a long time, but it will be beautiful and _glorious_.)

She grabs a poetry book from the coffee table and reads aloud to him while he calms down, rubbing her thumb over his gloved hand the whole time.

_I am **never** letting you go this time._

.

.

**Author's Note:**

> This lovely event happened only because these amazing authors also participated! A HUGE thank you to these awesome authors:
> 
> Alastair, AsgardianHobbit98, Damnyousillygoose, RavenStyx, GustavonkaLondon, HisagiKirigakure, Iceburg-sanCPX, Kakashi97, Kairomone, Kamil the Awesome, Max333, Nazaki-Sama, NekoPantera, Phoenixreal, Potashiamu, Sailor Silver Ladybug, Seth's Kiss, SerenaJones585, SesshomaruFreak, Spunky0ne and Yatsu Narurasuke
> 
> Most, if not all, of these authors can be found on fanfiction.net! There will be a community for other works from this event on ff.net and a collection here on Ao3. Please be mindful of everyone's tags and warnings, and rating depending upon the theme they chose.
> 
> Please do go read their fics! Whether for this event that they generously spent their time on, or some of their other incredible works!


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